


Your Endless Grace

by quantumpriest



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7575958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumpriest/pseuds/quantumpriest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had thought about it often, and he had thought about it alone, face down on his pillow, one hand sneaking between his legs, burning with shame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Endless Grace

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing after a long, long time, and first time posting a fic here ever. I'm not absolutely happy with it, but I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless.

When August started to unfurl his scarf, Barris felt his hands start to sweat.

He had thought about the Herald’s neck often: the thick column of brown skin, soft and smooth, hidden by scarves. He had thought of its elegant curve, of the place where it connected to the man’s shoulder, of how it would feel under his lips, between his teeth.

He had thought about it often, and he had thought about it alone, face down on his pillow, one hand sneaking between his legs, burning with shame. The Herald – His Grace, the Most Pure, the Most Beloved, the Lady’s Favored – spread, open, begging: harder, Delrin, harder.

Barris wondered, not for the first time, if the Herald could see into his mind – if, by the grace of Our Lady, he had the means to reach into his head, to pluck the sins from his dreams: curved backs and parted lips, armored fingers leaving purple-blue gifts on dark flesh.

“Look at me, Ser Barris.”

He did, and gasped.

There was a – a gash in the Herald’s neck, and inside it there was light, soft and gold. It rose from the wound, curling around sharp cheekbones like a caress. It set the room alight, framing the Herald’s face with shadows.

“When I… before the Breach, I… passed away.” His fingers played with his scarf, now, and the room smelled of fire. Of lightning. “But Andraste— she brought me back.”

He smiled, and Barris burned.


End file.
